


How To (not) Take Care Of A Sick Lesbian

by n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss



Category: The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emma’s in a lot of pain, Fever, Multi, Parent-Child Relationship, Platonic Cuddling, Sickfic, Sickness, they have no clue what they’re doing but they’re trying their best, this is mainly about the actors taking care of emma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 12:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss/pseuds/n0t_bess1e_b4ss_0n_the_b4ss
Summary: Emma gets sick. Luckily there are four actors from Broadway there to take care of her.





	How To (not) Take Care Of A Sick Lesbian

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to everyone on The Prom discord server who gave me suggestions for this fic!!! i hope i made y’all proud because it took me two days to write for some reason

A loud bang coming from downstairs is what woke Emma up from her fitful sleep. She peeled open her heavy eyelids and blinked away the blurry fog hazing her vision. Pale sunlight seeps inside through the curtains and, when she glances out the window, all she sees is grey. The morning mist is still thick in the air, and the rainclouds of an upcoming storm are silverspots for the dark, wet background.

What was that sound?

At first, she didn’t hear the voices due to the buzzing in her ears, but when she did, she groaned into her pillow. Footsteps headed towards her room.

“I thought the front door was locked.” She said, half mumbling, half speaking aloud.

“You did,” Trent says, “but then we needed to get in and Angie sidekicked the door before we found the key.”

“She what?!”

Emma sat up and was immediately hit by a terrible dizzy spell, followed by a fit of coughing. She hunches over, clutching tightly at her blankets.

“God, you look terrible.”

She squinted up at Dee Dee, who was standing at the doorway with Barry. They were eyeing her sickly body wearily.

“Thanks,” She grits, “It has taken me two days to get like this.”

Her grandma was out of town for something and Alyssa had to go to a debate competition, so Emma had been alone for awhile now. She didn’t like it, but she wasn’t about to go and beg them to avoid their plans just so they could stay with her.

Angie walks over and eases the girl back into a lying position. She winced when she felt her forehead.

“Oh, honey, you’re burning up.” She said, “Is there a thermometer around here?”

“Downstairs in the medicine cabinet.”

“I’ll get it,” Barry says quickly, hurrying out of the room.

Emma was a little hurt about how distant he and Dee Dee were being. She was sure they didn’t want to really be there, but she was basically forcing them to stay.

  
“You guys don’t have to do this,” She mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

“Nonsense.” Trent waved a hand dismissively, “Besides, I doubt you can even stand on your own.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Barry soon returned and Angie took Emma’s temperature.

“Holy shit, kid,” She said, running a hand through her hair, “Yeah, we’re definitely not leaving now.”

“What is it?” Barry asked.

“101.”

“Oh, that’s not that bad,” Dee Dee says, “What’s the normal temperature for a girl her age?”

“98.” Trent deadpans.

“...Ah.”

“Do you need anything, honey?” Angie asked, looking down at the girl.

“No,” Emma answers while curling up under her blankets, “I’m just going to try and sleep.”

“Good idea!” Dee Dee says and is already walking out of the room with Barry. Trent and Angie follow them after closing the curtains and shutting the bedroom door.

“You guys can at least TRY to act like you care.” Trent hissed accusingly once they were all downstairs.

“We do care!” Barry barked.

“Then stop acting like she has the plague.” Angie crossed her arms, “We’re all she has right now. Worry about her and not yourselves.”

Dee Dee bit back a retort and sighed, knowing they were right.

“Okay, okay,” She said, “We’ll act better.”

“Good.”

Since they had no plans on leaving, the four Broadway stars entertained themselves in various ways. While snooping through a few drawers and photo albums in the office room, they all heard rapid footsteps from upstairs.

“I’ll go check on her.” Trent volunteered.

He walked up the steps to find Emma heaving violently in the bathroom. What worries him the most is how badly she’s trembling, as it almost looks like she’s having a seizure.

“Oh, Emma.”

He kneels down next to the girl, rubbing her back comfortingly. With the other, he holds her hair out of the way.

“Better out than in out, huh?”

Emma coughs again.

”O-kay,” The actor laughed slightly, “I’ll stop talking.”

Eventually, Emma stops throwing up her insides and collapsed against Trent, breathing heavily. Her face is drenched in sweat and she looks utterly miserable.

“I’m dying, Mr. Oliver,” She wheezed, “I’m dying.”

“You aren’t dying.” Trent chided, “But you are sicker than I initially thought. Can you stand?”

“I’d rather not,” Emma pants, “Can’t I just lay here? The floor is nice.”

Trent chuckled and shook his head.

“I’m sure your bed is much more comfortable.”

Emma mumbled a slur of words and then attempted to stand. Trent swooped in and scooped her up into his arms before she could fall over. She squeaks a little and then relaxed.

“I can walk,” She said, slightly flustered, “I’m probably too heavy.”

“Not at all.” Trent says honestly. In fact, he was worried about how easy it was to carry her.

He walked back to Emma’s room and set her down on the bed.

  
“I’m sorry.” She mumbled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Trent said, “I’ll go get you a water bottle, okay? So you can wash your mouth out.”

Emma nodded and he did just that, returning a few moments later with a bottle of water. He helped the girl sit up so she could take a sip.

“Thank you,” She says and then collapsed backwards back onto her bed. She gave Trent a little thumbs up to let him know that was just her being melodramatic.

“No problem,” The Juilliard graduate chuckled, “Do you need anything else?”

Emma shook her head.

“Alright. Get some rest.”

The girl tried, but it felt practically impossible. She rolled around in her blankets for around fifteen minutes, desperate to get comfortable. Exhaustion is wended into her muscles and bones but she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes closed long enough to drift off.

“This sucks...”

Giving up, Emma reached over to her nightstand and picked up the Nintendo Switch from its docking station. She decided to try and pass the time by playing Let’s Go Pikachu, as she still had to beat the last gym and move onto the championship. She thought she had a pretty good team consisting of a variety of types and moves to try and match the Elite Four. There was: Darkstalker the Gengar, Grandeur the Victreebell, Indigo the Lapras, Liebling the Kangaskhan, Qibli the Dragonite, and, of course, Glory the Pikachu. She was proud them, especially because the leveling up system in this game appeared to be a little slower than in the others and every single trainer seemed to be stronger than her. That, or she just sucked.

Playing helped, honestly. She almost forgot about how it hurt each time she breathe, and time passed much quicker than just lying in bed, counting how many times her ceiling fan spun around.

While switching out Liebling for Indigo in a battle against the last gym leader’s Persian, she thought about her current situation. How did the actors know she was sick? Sick enough to feel the need to come over. All she had told Barry was that she had a little cold, even though she knew it was much worse than that. Apparently, he felt the need to tell the other three, but it couldn’t have been his idea to come and take care of her, as he was distant towards her. Maybe Trent or Angie?

Emma threw her head back against the pillow and sighed in relief when the Persian was finally knocked out. Now that she had the eighth gym badge, she could enter Victory Road and take on the champion.

How was her twelve year old character with six monsters more successful than she was again?

After beating her rival and in a pretty difficult battle that left her with only Glory and Darkstalker with barely any health, she decided to save and give her eyes a rest, as the colorful game was starting to hurt her head. She turned the power off and set her Switch aside, hoping that was enough to tire her out to get some much-needed sleep.

———

Angie and Trent are both a little surprised when Barry offers to go check on Emma. He opens the door to the bedroom to see the girl curled up on the edge of her bed, eyes bloodshot and face grey. She looks up a little when he peeks in.

“Hey honey,” He said softly, “Have you slept at all?”

Emma noiselessly shook her head. She shuts her heavy eyelids and coughed into her blankets. She’s a little surprised when Barry actually comes and sits next to her and rubs her back.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked, “Are you hungry?”

Emma made a bitter face. Even the simple thought of food was repulsive. She understood that Barry was only trying to help, but she had to shake her head in denial.

Barry frowns.

“You should at least try and eat something.” He said while brushing some hair out of her face, “You can’t take more medicine on an empty stomach. It’s not good for you.”

Emma sighed, but it came out more like a wheezing sound. She nodded and Barry ruffles her already messy mane.

“Okay. I’ll go whip something up.”

Seventeen minutes later, Emma is finally half asleep and there’s a loud crash from downstairs, followed by yelling. Then another crash.

“Sugar, Dee Dee, I said sugar! Not salt!”

“Have you ever cooked before are you just that incompetent?”

“Oh, bite me, Barry!”

“Why is everybody yelling?!”

Emma held her pillow over her ears to try and muffle the loud voices. Why did the walls suddenly become so paper thin?

“Barry, you aren’t mixing hard enough.”

“Wh- Mixing hard enough? I’m mixing just fine, Dee Dee. Thank you very much.”

“No you’re not!”

“I’m mixing super hard!”

“YOU’RE MIXING AS HARD AS YOUR DAD’S LIMP DICK!”

“OH FUCK YOU!”

Emma groaned and dragged herself out of her bed. She could barley stand up, but she had to make sure her grandma’s kitchen didn’t get completely destroyed.

Clad in sweatpants and a T-shirt, she stumbled down the staircase, nearly falling a few times. When she peeked into the kitchen, she saw Dee Dee armed with a wooden ladle, Barry wielding a pan, Angie pointing a mixer like it was a gun, and Trent desperately trying to stop them from murdering each other with kitchen utensils. They all froze when they saw the girl staring at them.

“Emma!” Barry yelped, dropping the pan. Emma winced at the clatter it made on the floor. “Why are you up?”

Emma raised an eyebrow as if to say, “Why do you think?”

“Right. Yeah. Okay. That makes sense.”

Angie walked over and sets her hand on Emma’s shoulder when she noticed her swaying.

“Sorry about all the noise,” She apologized, “But you need to get back to bed.”

“Please don’t destroy the kitchen.” Emma says with her eyes half-lidded.

“We won’t. Don’t worry about this!” Trent smiled at her.

“I’ll try...”

Angie helps Emma back up the stairs, which the girl was grateful for, as she probably would haven fallen when a coughing fit bursts from her lips. She doubled over, gasping and wheezing, one hand gripping tightly at Angie’s shirt.

“Oh Emma...” Angie murmured, rubbing her back.

Emma looks up blearily, blinking away black spots. Mucus is slick on the back of her throat. She cringes.

“Sorry..”

“Don’t be sorry, honey.” Angie said.

Right before getting to her room, Emma paused.

“Do you think I can take a shower?” She asked softly. She felt sweaty and gross and really needed to wash off.

Angie considers it for a moment before nodding.

“Sure,” She said, “Do you need any help?”

Emma’s entire face burned brighter red, making Angie laugh a little.

“Uhh- N-no. I’m good.”

“Alright. Call me if you need anything. And don’t pass out while you’re in there.”

“I’ll try.”

Emma grabbed some fresh clothes from her bedroom before retreating into the bathroom. After turning on the shower, only then is she hit by an overwhelming wave of nausea. She fell to her knees in front of the toilet, ejecting the little contents she had left in her stomach. The bitter taste of acid returned to her mouth and, to make matters worse, she’s pretty sure she just got vomit up her nose. And in her hair.

Emma groaned and banged her head against the toilet seat, not caring about how unsanitary that may have been. She was about to take a shower, anyway.

Staggering up, Emma slipped behind the curtain and stood under the water for a moment. Finally, she moved again, reaching for a bottle of soap and slathering some against her body and-

“Oh wait.”

She still had her clothes. Those had to come off. Of course.

She awkwardly loitered for a second, making sure the soap gets out of the material before stepping onto the floor mat. How delirious and stupid was she? Bathing with her pajamas on?

Taking off her clothes took great effort, like her limbs were made of lead. She discarded them in the sink, shuffled back into the shower, and almost immediately spits out the water that beats into her face. Blindly, like she has never showered before, she paws around for a safe spot from the onslaught.

Normally, a hot shower would be relaxing, but when sick and feverish, it was like a torture segment. Instead of cleaning her, it was scraping her skin off entirely. Claws of fire latch onto frayed edges and tore down, tunneling down into her very core.

Emma wasn’t going to let herself be defeated by a damn bath. She had the overwhelming urge to punch the spigot, but that probably wouldn’t do much for her. It was made of metal, after all.

Her knees suddenly gave in and she collapsed to the floor. She reached up to try and regain some mobility, but only succeeded in knocking over every single soap bottle onto herself when her hand slipped on the bar.

Emma: 0. Shower: 1.

Exhaustion seemed to be bred into her bones. It keeps her from sitting upright and she spends multiple long minutes just lying face-down on the floor, face smothered against puddles of water. She rasps and coughs, rolling heavily onto her side and pulling her legs in close. She pressed her burning forehead against her knees.

Resting her eyes for a moment wouldn’t hurt anyone.....

Water bills were a thing, though.

Sighing heavily, Emma pushed herself onto her knees and grabbed a rag to start wiping herself off. She douses her mane in shampoo and uses her nails to scrub the chestnut locks free from sweat. She repeats this process at least three times before finally twisting the faucet handle. The torrent of liquid fire sputters to a halt.

Lavender-scented steam billowed outward as the shower curtain was yanked open. Emma paws around for a towel and swathes it around herself. She takes to drying her hair by shaking her head around wildly like a wet dog. Her entire body disagreed with this method, as it made her feel even more woozy, but she didn’t care.

Once she was finished wrestling with her clothes, Emma sluggishly dragged herself back to her room. She collapses into her bed, halfway lying on the mattress while her legs remained limp on the shaggy carpet. She groans and takes note how weirdly quiet the house seems to be.

Where were the actors? Either the sound of their voices were being covered up by the ringing in her ears or they were gone. Did they leave? Have they finally had enough of her?

A small whimper breaches Emma’s lips and she bites her tongue. They were gone. She must have driven them off. Of course she did.

Loneliness pooled through the pit of her stomach like a dark oil spill. She really didn’t want to be alone right now, especially in her current state. So when she heard the front door open and close from downstairs, she nearly jumped in joy.

“Hey honey,” Barry smiled as he entered the bedroom, “We’re back!”

Emma rolled over and pushed herself up onto the bed fully. She blinks at the four actors.

“Were you asleep?” Angie asked.

“I wish,” Emma answered, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm, “Where’d you guys go?”

“Well, we burned the oatmeal,” Trent says, “So we just went out and bought some ice cream.”

“You burned oatmeal?” Emma gaped and then started to laugh, “Oww! Ow! It hurts when I laugh!”

Angie walks over and rubbed her shoulder. Trent hands her a tub of ice cream and a spoon.

“Thank you.” Emma said and then coughed a little.

“We also got this,” Dee Dee pulled out a bottle filled with some kind of dark pink liquid. Emma squints at it and curled her nose.

“What is it?”

“Oh just some medicine,” Dee Dee informs. “We also got ginger shots and throat coat and Ibuprofen and Motrin and- Jesus, are we trying to overdose the girl or what?”

Barry and Angie snort while Trent just shrugs. Dee Dee unscrews the lid of the bottle she’s holding and filled the cap up with the thick medicine. She looks at it and is glad she’s not the one about to drink it.

“That’s probably enough, right?” She looked at the others.

It was a big lid. A little over the stated amount wouldn’t be that bad, right? The more she takes the better it’ll work! Probably.

Dee Dee hands the medicine-filled cap to Emma, who stares at it like it’s poison. She looks uncertain and wonders if there’s a way to get out of this.

“Just take it like a shot.” Angie encouraged her.

A shot of Fireball sounded more appealing than this scarlet concoction, and Emma didn’t even like alcohol! Alas, she had to get it over with. Tipping her head back, she downed the liquid as fast as she could. Almost instantly, she made a sound similar to a cat coughing up a hairball. The four actors laugh.

“Hang on, we have more.” Dee Dee said before Emma could get too comfortable with feeling like she was done.

It probably wasn’t good to take all that medicine on an empty stomach, but Emma still wasn’t up to eat much. Although she did have some ice cream, mainly because it soothed the burning in her throat. That was short lived when her stomach bubbles warningly and she had to push it away before she was sick all over again.

The exhaustion that washes over her was the cue for the actors to go back downstairs to let her rest. Hoping that the medicine would finally make her feel better, she fell into a pit of hazy fever dreams.

———

“Alyssa...?”

Angie thought Emma was completely asleep when she went to check on her an hour later. She paused right before she stepped out of the room.

“What?”

Emma’s arms shake at the strain of pushing herself up into a sitting position. Actually, her entire body is quaking with shivers. Her cheeks are flushed dark red from her raising temperature and she squints her bloodshot eyes at Angie.

“Are you...are you my girlfriend...?” She slurs out.

Oh boy. Her fever is making her delirious.

“No, I’m not.”

Emma’s eyes water when she fully registers the answer.

“What did I do, Alyssa?” She whimpers.

“Oh hey, hey,” Angie hurried over to the bedside, “Don’t cry! It’s okay!”

“What’s going on?” Barry peeks in, “Why is she crying?”

“She thinks I’m Alyssa.” Angie replied, fretting over the weeping girl.

“Play along then! The real Alyssa won’t be here for another half hour.”

Angie shot him a look like he was insane.

“What? I can’t do it.”

“Then go wet a rag or something because she’s burning up.”

“That I can do!”

Angie rolled her eyes a little. Barry disappears and then reappears a few moments later with a wet hand towel. He hands it to Angie and then retreats from the room before Emma could mistake him for the guy he thought took her “girlfriend” away.

The girl was still mewling and whimpering, panicking about “Alyssa” breaking up with her. She jumped when a hand is set on her shoulder.

“Hey, I was just kidding!” Angie said quickly, “It’s me! Alyssa!”

She didn’t have to try and mimic Alyssa’s voice, as Emma believed her just by saying that. The girl calmed herself and laid down when asked to. She cooed when the rag wiped down her hot skin.

The adrenaline rush from thinking her girlfriend left her filters out of Emma’s body and blistering heat returns. She began to pant heavily, screwing she eyes shut like she was having a nightmare. The blankets were smothering her, so she kicked them off. Angie makes a noise of disapproval from above.

“You’re shivering.” She points out.

Emma said something in response, but it was incomprehensible. Angie was right, though, as she suddenly felt both hot and cold at the same time. She didn’t have the strength to grab the blankets, though, and was too shy to ask Angie, so she just let her teeth clatter up against each other.

When did they start chattering again?

“Alyssa...?” She mumbled, prying her eyes open slightly. She realizes she’s not looking in the right direction, though. “Oh, sorry.. Wait-“ She squints, “When’d you get a twin?”

“Oh dear,” Angie muttered to herself.

Double vision was never a good sign.

Emma’s brain felt like it was being pulled out of her nose. She rolled her pounding head across the pillow, wallowing in the pain and just trying to focus on the soothing sensation of the wet rag on her sticky flesh.

It doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t work. When would anything go her way?

“Hey, what are you doing? Don’t move.” Angie said when Emma started to push herself up. She quickly realized the girl just wanted affection when she curled right up against her, gripping fistfuls of her shirt and burying her face in her chest.

It was in that moment that Angie realized she was going to be there for awhile.

Anyone else probably would have just gotten up, but Angie was afraid of disturbing Emma from her much-needed sleep. So, instead, she just sits there, running her fingers through the girl’s hair and rocking her gently. She stays like that for an hour and a half, pretending to be Emma’s girlfriend, until voices headed towards the room.

“How is she?” Alyssa asked immediately upon entering the room.

“Not sure,” Angie answers, “She’s finally sleeping.”

She shifted slightly, moving Emma into a different position but not untangling her from her arms. Alyssa walked over and felt her girlfriend’s forehead.

“She’s on fire.” She says, “What was her temperature the last time it was checked?”

“103, I think.” Dee Dee says.

“What?!”

Alyssa snatched the thermometer off of the nightstand and checked Emma’s temperature. It was no longer 103, but 104.

“Are you all insane?!”

She whirled around to face the other three actors and her stare could kill.

“That is way too high! She needs to go to the hospital!”

Her yelling made Emma stir and she opened her eyes slightly.

“A-Alyssa...?”

Alyssa turned around and smiled slightly, softening her voice.

“Hey, Em. It’s me. I’m here.” She says.

For a moment, Emma seems utterly confused. She looks from Angie to Alyssa and then back at Angie.

“Wait... I have two girlfriends?!” She exclaimed, “Good job, Emma!” She high fives herself.

It was hard not to laugh at that up until Emma started to cough violently. Her entire body curled up on itself and she almost found herself clawing at her throat in sheer desperation to get air.

Alyssa took the girl into her arms almost immediately, relieving Angie of her role as the fake girlfriend. She rubs Emma’s back comfortingly as she shudders and sobs over raspy wheezes.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” She soothes, holding Emma closer, “I’ve got you. It’s okay now. We’re going to go to the hospital, alright? You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

That seemed to snap Emma both out of her feverish daze and coughing fit. She stiffens in Alyssa’s arms.

“N-no,” She stammered, “We can’t. Too much money. I’m-I’m fine...” She wheezes again.

Alyssa frowned.

“Don’t worry about that right now. You just need to get proper help.”

Emma began to shake her head, squirming a little, like she was trying to get away.

“N-no. Please. I’m okay.”

Alyssa wasn’t having any of it. She practically ordered Trent to pick up Emma while she went to go start the pickup truck. Her girlfriend was going to go to hospital whether she liked it or not.

Alyssa drove. Angie and Trent got to ride in the truck while Barry and Dee Dee were shunned to follow in the bus. During the drive, Emma was hit with another wave of delirium.

“Emma, please stop throwing wet wipes at me while I’m behind the wheel.” Alyssa requested calmly.

Emma paused mid-throw and mumbled a tiny “Okay”. Her arms go limp at her side and she looks at Trent, who’s seated beside her, like he was an alien. Then, her head jerks around at an alarming speed for someone who was sick and she began to talk again.

“Can we please roll down a window?” She rasped.

“It’s raining, sweetheart.” Alyssa replied.

“I’m killing myself if we don’t roll down a window.” Emma reprimanded, but every word came out slurred and mashed together.

She seems to get over her denied request almost instantly, as her delirious, ADHD crow brain has moved onto something else. She picks up a water bottle from one of the cup holders and stares at it like it’s a foreign object.

“Can someone please tell Mr. Glickman I’m not gay,” She warbles, “I’m a fucking LESBIAN!”

She coughs as a result of her yelling and then glared accusingly at the three people who are just _laughing_ at her. She mumbled something, unscrewed the water bottle’s cap, and poured it on her head.

“Emma, stop-!!” Trent yelled, snatching the bottle away from her.

“I need to WASH my HANDS!” The girl yowled.

Emma swats at Trent and then started coughing again. She slightly comes down form her high and puts her head in her hands.

“Spinning,” She mumbled.

Trent rubs her back and she appreciated the gesture. He jumped a little when her head whipped back up suddenly.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” She mutters.

“What?” Angie looks back at her from the passenger seat.

“My girlfriend. Is driving. My pickup truck. My girlfriend is driving my pickup truck! That’s so hot. Wow I’m gay. I love you Alyssa so much.”

Emma is speaking at a hundred miles per hour, babbling on and on about Alyssa until she completely broke down into tears because she “loved her girlfriend so much.” She almost completely forgot about how she was being taken to the hospital against her will, but quickly remembered when the building showed up in the distance. Trent had to stop her from unbuckling her seatbelt, because he was legitimately afraid she would try and jump out of the moving vehicle.

“Emma, it’s okay,” He assured her gently.

The girl whimpers and shakes her head, curling into his side. She doesn’t believe him, but she does stop struggling.

Once the car is parked, Emma insists on walking on her own. She was seventeen. She didn’t need to be carried. But she was exhausted and achy and completely collapsed into one of those plastic chairs in the waiting room once she was inside. Alyssa is the one to fill out everything because she’s the only person in the group who actually knows what she’s doing, despite being the second youngest. She’s also the one to help Emma to the examining room when her name is called.

“One of us will have to pretend to be her parents, right?” Barry spoke up first. “We can’t just say we’re her ‘adult friends.’”

“I’ll do it.” Dee Dee said.

“What?” Angie shot the actress a look, “Why should it be _you_?”

“I’m the oldest.”

“I carried her here with my own two arms!” Trent barked. “If anyone is going to be her fake dad it’s going to be me because I didn’t see any of you doing that.”

“And where were you when she needed help getting ready for the prom?” Barry struck back, crossing his arms.

“How is that remotely applicable to this current situation at all?!”

“Hey, you’re that guy from talk to the hand!” A man sitting in the waiting room piped up.

“NOT NOW!!”

“Excuse me,” Angie stepped up, “While you three were busy finger-popping each other’s assholes, I was upstairs comforting the poor kid when she was crying. I was her fake girlfriend! I couldn’t go to the bathroom for two hours because she wouldn’t let go!”

“Oh, great reason.” Dee Dee claps.

“You probably would have thrown her off!” Angie growled.

Alyssa stood over near the front counter after coming out from the back, just watching the four actors argue with each other. She turns her head to the desk worker, who almost looked amused, and sighed.

“Sorry,” Alyssa said.

“Don’t be,” The lady says, “I take it they’re not Emma Nolan’s parents, though, yes?”

“No,” Alyssa shook her head. “They’re like her guardians in a way, though. I swear they usually aren’t like this.”

She looks back at the actors, who look like they’re about to throw a few punches at each other. Right before Angie went to sidekick Barry, Emma walked out with a doctor. They all froze and yelled, “Emma!” in sync, looking relieved. Emma, on the other hand, still looks dazed and confused.

Alyssa is handed a bag and she takes a moment to fill out a few more papers before pausing. She dug through her purse to grab her wallet when Dee Dee stopped her.

“Let me.”

Alyssa was shocked for a moment before smiling. Her anger towards the actress diminished slightly and she accepted the request.

“Do you know what they said?” Dee Dee asked.

“Emma’s got the flu.” Alyssa replied, “She needs to take these antibiotics and she should be fine. Hopefully.”

Dee Dee nodded and then looked over at the girl, who was currently being crushed in a hug by Barry. Though, she was too out of it to register what exactly was going on.

All of a sudden, guilt pools in the back of her throat. She really did need to be more compassionate. Well, at least she won the match of Rock Paper Scissors to see who got to be the one to pay.

———

Emma awoke to a daze of heat and pain. She barley got her eyes open before thunder crashes loudly and her entire body lurches in fright. Her head jerks up from the pillow and she looks around her dark room before her eyes settle on the woman sitting on a chair beside her bed.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Dee Dee set the book she was reading aside. Emma recognizes it as The Dragonet’s Prophecy- the first book in the Wings of Fire series, which has been resting on her nightstand. A small smirk twitches on her lip and Dee Dee tilts her head at her smug expression. “What?”

Emma nods at the book, unable to speak at the moment. She smirks more, though.

“Oh, don’t give me that.” Dee Dee rolled her eyes, “I had to entertain myself somehow. A good read, though. I’ll have to finish it later.”

Emma laughed, although it sounded more like a wheeze that turned into coughing. Pain contorts her face as her throat is scraped raw.

“Here-“ Dee Dee reaches her hands out and helps the girl sit up so she could get a drink from the water bottle on the nightstand. “Drink slowly. You don’t want to upset your stomach even more.”

The gentle tone she was using didn’t come out often. In fact, she only seemed to use it for Emma, like it was reserved specifically for the girl.

“You really worried us, you know?” Dee Dee spoke again.

Emma nodded a little. She was still for a moment before laying her head on Dee Dee’s leg, as she was close enough. The actress’ hands hover for a moment before stroking through Emma’s messy hair, soothing her further.

Suddenly, three more actors (Alyssa had to go home) are in her room and Dee Dee is loudly shushing them because “the little lesbian is almost asleep and you’re going to wake her up.” Emma does raise her head and smiled slightly at the others, who motion her to lay back down.

Barry calls out things to get, blankets and pillows and more antibiotics and the elephant.

“Wait. What elephant?” Emma asked when she found her voice.

Barry smirks widely.

“Get the elephant.”

Angie ran out of the room. Emma still has no idea what they mean until a stuffed elephant is suddenly hurled at her face.

“We got it from the shop area in the hospital,” Barry explained.

“Ah.” Emma nodded and nuzzles her face against the fur of the stupid thing when nobody is looking because it means _so much more_ than a piece of fabric with some stuffing inside.

She sinks back against Dee Dee, eyes half lidded and breath slowing. There’s a lump in her throat but it isn’t caused by her illness. She quickly tries to swallow it.

The peace lasts a few more minutes before the actors are fussing over Emma again because she shifted a little to reposition herself and accidentally whimpered. Their coddling might be annoying, actually, if Emma didn’t feel like she might cry instead because she has never had someone care for her like this. Love her the way these people do right now.

So, she closes her eyes and pretends to be asleep and wills the tightness in her throat to go away. It rises instead and tears drip from her closed eyes, splatter over the edge of the pillow and onto Dee Dee’s legs. It goes unnoticed for a while and Emma holds it tight, bites down on her lip and squeezes her eyes tighter. But the tears accumulate on Dee Dee’s pant leg and the hand rubbing up and down her side stops moving.

“Emma?” The actress whispers, leaning over in an attempt to see Emma’s face. “Emma, are you okay?”

A whimper bubbles forth and Dee Dee’s muscles tighten in worry at it.

“What’s wrong?”

“No,” Emma murmurs and the other three actors are listening now, glancing over to make sure the girl is okay. She sits up and the tears running down her cheeks glisten in the light from the lamp. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s right. It’s all just _so right_.”

All four actors almost look stunned and it makes Emma laugh weakly. She’s trying to wipe away the tears but they just keep coming.

“I just- Thank you all for taking care of me today. I’ve never… I’ve never had something like that. It was nice. It was really nice.”

Dee Dee is the one that crushes her into a hug, whispering ‘always’ into her ear. The other three aren’t far behind and Emma has never felt so loved before.

 


End file.
